The Rose Bowers are not, strictly speaking, a brothel. They're a place you can go where your needs will be catered to. It doesn't really matter what those needs are. It's just that usually, lesser needs can be met at a lower price. There's a reason you go to the Rose Bowers.

Tintin is a virgin. He's twenty-four years old. He's had plenty of opportunities to lose his virginity - he went to college, after all, he was in the army for a while, he's spent time on planets with more prostitutes than the entire population of his home colony. But... it just never felt right. He doesn't know why.

He also doesn't know why he's tempted by the Rose Bowers. He should be sticking his tongue out and putting the brochure at the bottom of the stack. Instead, he's staring at it.

And he's accepting the offer.

And, a week later, he's stepping through a portal into the reception area of the Rosethorn Hotel.

He's got his omni-tool and the clothes on his back. By all accounts, the Bowers will provide anything else he needs. Toiletries, clothing, food. Sex toys. Miscellaneous potions. Magic items, even, though he can't keep them after his visit is over. More sex toys.

He approaches the receptionist, blushing a bit. "Um. Room for Valentin Saint-Martin?"

     "You're in Room 284, honey," he says.

"- do I need a keycard -"

     "Your omni-tool will do the trick. Or your retina, if you're nude."

He exhales. "I- I don't think I'm going to be getting that nude anytime soon. Thanks."

     "No problem. Enjoy your stay, alright?"

"I'll try."

He goes up the stairs to his room. His omni-tool does indeed open the door.

Inside the room: a bed! Couches! Chairs! How many people do they think he's going to have over??? A TV! A bookshelf! A giant flower with a tablet and a box of chocolates on it!

The tablet on the giant flower explains some things about the Bowers: blackberries as a warning that things might get intense, a listing of events that are going on, how ordering on the console works. He checks out the catalogue. It's... some items appeal, but on the whole it's completely overwhelming, and he regrets it almost immediately.

He tries one of the chocolates. Vanilla cherry creme. He wonders if he's being mocked, then casts the thought aside as deeply paranoid.

The tablet suggests various meeting groups. Club Coze sounds a bit... something. He's not sure he needs to be coddled right now. There are others, all of which sound intimidating.

"Kind of want to build a pillow fort and hide in it for two weeks," he says aloud.

Then he takes a deep breath. He's a grown man. He will find something to do, and he will have fun with it. He takes another look at the events.

Apparently "Club Farseek" is doing... speed dating. He can probably do speed dating. Even if it is Rose Bowers speed dating, which for all he knows is done in the nude and if you don't have sex with someone on the table by the end you're kicked out. Probably it's not that.

...he orders some Perfidious Perfume, to make his sweat smell pleasantly cinnamon-sugary. He gets the impression he's going to be sweating a lot. Then he makes an outfit. A black dress shirt, pearly snap buttons, with white slacks. He leaves the top two buttons undone, as a sort of concession to reality.

He steps out the door to his room and heads down the stairs to the lounge with the event.

The door is open, and a man the approximate size of a krogan battlemaster stands outside. He's wearing chaps over unreasonably tight jeans, and his purple Western shirt is open, revealing monumentally unfair musculature. "Hey! You here for the Farseek speed dating?"

"- yes, actually! Nice to meet you, I'm, my name is Tintin -"

He extends a hand lamely. How is this man so incredibly large.

"Tintin! I like it. I'm Ari." The man grips Tintin's hand with the gentleness of a man who knows he could crush someone's bones into powder, and draws him into a fierce brohug. "Come on in, it's starting."

Tintin can feel himself starting to drip into his sensible briefs at the brief physical contact and the display of strength. This was a mistake.

"Okay!" he says blithely. "Um, lead the way."

"Right this way, monsieur," Ari says with a deep bow. He leads the way ten feet into the room and then claps, causing the door to close.

Tintin is one of sixteen people in the moderately sized room, all of whom quieted down when Ari clapped his hands. "Hello, everyone!" Ari says loudly. "Welcome to speed dating! The basics are simple: try to get to know each other in one minute. That means thirty seconds apiece. That probably doesn't seem like enough time to get to know someone! It isn't. What you want to do is get a first impression; you can get to know them later, when we move from speed-dating into snacks and general mingling. It's just enough time to know if you want to get to know someone."

He outlines a couple more things - notably, there's a safeword ("succotash"), which Ari encourages them all to use if they're even slightly uncomfortable with a discussion topic. Then he herds everyone into seats, sits opposite someone, and sets a timer on his watch.

"And... go!"

The next two hours or so are... largely disappointing. Tintin meets a few people who seem interesting. Tintin meets a few people who seem interested in him. The categories don't seem to overlap;  It doesn't help that he's stammering, trying to get out meaningful information in far too little time. He should be better at this, he works with his words for a living. Maybe he's spent too long killing people, recently, and not enough knowing them.

That's not the problem. The problem, really, is that as he makes the rounds, he keeps thinking about brushing against Ari's bare chest, and that handshake, and his cunt pulses with desire.

The room is set up in such a way that he and Ari are in the last set of pairs.

"Good to see you again," he says.

"I know! It's nice to see you too. Been enjoying yourself?"

"Um. Somewhat."

"No is also an option. You're a bit shy, aren't you?"

"Not in any other circumstance, I assure you."

"I get that impression. It's kind of hot."

Tintin bites his tongue. "I. Really? What about this is hot?"

"You're a confident man, a strong man if I don't miss my guess, acting like a blushing teenager on prom night because you're thinking about me holding you down and fucking you. It's very enriching."

"H-how do you know that," Tintin asks, managing somehow not to double over.

"Coup de chance."

The timer rings. Ari stands up. "Alright, everyone, it's time to mingle! Or you can go back to your rooms, if you didn't have much luck... or if you feel very lucky. It's up to you."

He turns to Tintin. "Your room or mine?" he asks.

"I. Um. M- uh."

Ari circles around the table with predatory grace that belies his size, stoops down to look Tintin in the eyes, and hums thoughtfully to himself.

Then he hooks a finger in one of Tintin's belt loops and turns to tug him along. "My room it is. Follow me."

He walks briskly, but not so fast Tintin can't keep up if he hurries.

Tintin follows, damp spots starting to visibly show up on the front of his slacks.

Ari stops just outside the room and hails someone, apparently an old friend, to continue moderating the speed-dating group as they mingle. Then he leads Tintin through the halls.

"You look thoroughly indecent," he says approvingly, glancing back.

"And whose fault is that," Tintin asks, blushing furiously.

"Mine, naturally. Are you acting out so I'll spank you?"

Tintin does not have a response to this cached except, impossibly, to blush deeper.

"You're a very complicated little man," Ari muses. "You couldn't speak when I asked which room you wanted to fuck in, but when I tease, you bite back... except when I hit a nerve. You didn't hit it off with anyone, and I overheard you say to Stephen that you couldn't stand the time limit because you can't say anything meaningful, and yet you seemed to imprint on me after fifteen seconds. You could just be shallow, I suppose, going after me because I'm attractive and a foot taller than you... but I don't get that impression, and I'm good at reading people. I think perhaps you just know what you want, and that I can give it to you."

"You seem to have put a great deal of thought into this," Tintin mutters. "I can't say I've done the same."

"And the kitten shows his claws again," Ari notes. He turns a corner, pulling Tintin behind him.

They walk through the halls, passing a number of people on the way. Most of the people are entirely unfazed by the sight of Ari dragging along a man half his size by his soaked-through pants. Some grin. One stops Ari for a short conversation, treating Tintin as if he weren't there, until Ari begs off with a nod towards his captive.

Eventually, they reach Ari's room. He presses his thumb to a keypad, and the door opens. He pulls Tintin through and, once the door has closed again, releases his thumb from the belt-loop.

"Alright," Ari says cheerfully. "Now we're going to negotiate."

"Negotiate... what?"

"Everything. First of all, what are you comfortable with?"

"I have no idea what you mean."

"...like, sexually. Do you want to suck my cock? Do you want me to fuck you? Are you comfortable being on the bottom at all, should I be riding you - that sort of thing."

"I had kind of assumed you were dragging me to your room to have your way with me."

"I was! And I will have my way with you as soon as I know what you'll enjoy. Really, I just want to know what you're looking to get out of this and anything you don't want to do."

Tintin feels - small, and lost. "I... I don't know what I'm looking for. That's why I'm here. Can't you just..."

He doesn't know how to complete the sentence.

Ari hugs him.

Tintin stiffens in his arms, then slumps, tears welling in his eyes. "I. I don't want to just... I want to get it over with, I don't want - hugs and understanding and - therapy."

"Hugs are nice. And therapy's nice too, if you get the right kind. And 'getting it over with' sounds kind of a terrible way to think about sex."

Ari's rubbing his back. "...you haven't had sex before, right? It's a different problem if you have, I think."

"...no," he says sullenly. "I was hoping to change that."

"I can understand that. If you can demonstrate a preference, I'll even help with it."

He grits his teeth and speaks very carefully. "Please fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I want your cock inside my body."

"...okay, I'm not feeling super comfortable with this. You sound miserable. It's not hot. Can I dom you into seeing one of the therapists? Is that a thing I can do?"

"You promised," Tintin says petulantly, like a little kid who just got told he can't have dessert.

"Consent can be revoked. Seriously, I want you to see one of the therapists before you get hurt. Then we can renegotiate. Okay? We can keep hugging if you want, but I'm not fucking you right now."

"...okay. I want to keep hugging."

Ari keeps hugging. "I'm sorry. I know you were excited. But - I'm not comfortable domming you if you're this fucked up about it. I don't want to hurt anybody, especially not like this."

"...and I don't get to decide that I can take it."

"You don't get to decide that I can take it if you're wrong."

"I guess that's fair."

Tintin sighs heavily. "Could... could you bring me to wherever the therapy happens? So I'm not- alone?"

"Absolutely. Do you want to hold hands along the way?"

"I would love to."

He unhugs reluctantly, and grasps Ari's hand tight. Ari's hands are significantly bigger than his. In spite of his mood, this is still kind of hot.

Ari leads him down the hall, swinging his hand gently.

They reach the therapy office in short order. The receptionist tells them to go to office 27.

Inside is an asari, purple-skinned with intricate facial markings. She stands up from her desk when they enter, and she looks surprised.

     "Valentin Saint-Martin! Wow. I've seen some really out-there stuff here, but mostly it was more like 'blue elephant woman with six arms' than 'war hero my mom has a crush on'."

"Hi!" Tintin says, blushing slightly. "What are the odds, right? However many worlds known to the OTC, and I get assigned to you."

     "Pretty crazy! Uh, are you here with this gentleman as a couples thing, or is one of you providing moral support, or..."

"Moral support," Ari confirms. "For the war hero."

     "Cool. What seems to be the problem?"

Tintin shrinks in on himself. "I'm, uh... having a hard time setting boundaries. And... talking about what I want."

     She nods. "Not uncommon. You don't have to be embarrassed. Do you want to do this the easy way, or the standard way?"

"There's an easy way?" Tintin blinks.

     She taps one of her head-fronds. "Asari."

"Oh. Of course."

"What exactly does that mean?"

     "We're natural telepaths," she explains. "It's not as simple as reaching in and flicking a switch, but it's a lot less trouble than cognitive-behavioral therapy. Which, to be clear, I'm also trained in."

"...how much would you see?"

     She shrugs. "A lot. It's all strictly confidential, of course, and trust me, I've seen worse, but I will have eyes on your memories and instincts. It isn't an impersonal process. Therapy never is."

"I - I want to think about it."

     "Of course. There's a private room through that door. Your friend can join you."

Ari follows him through the door, still holding his hand.

"It's your decision," he says. "First of all. I know I've been kind of pushy."

"No you haven't," Tintin says. "You've been setting boundaries. I don't want to be - messed-up like this."

"Everybody's messed up somehow. You don't have to fix yourself for me."

"It's not for - it's not just for you. It's for me."

"Then why don't you want it?"

"...have you ever had... thoughts... that you would never say to someone else? Something that feels like it'd kill you if anyone saw? That they'd know you weren't - a good person?"

"No. I'm pretty sure thoughts can't make you a bad person, and separately, I've never had a thought I wouldn't share - though I know that's more of a me thing."

"Never?"

"I am, almost literally, constitutionally incapable of shame. When I was thirteen years old, I played Truth or Dare and the other kids tried to find my breaking point. I ended up buck-naked in the front yard, jerking off with a carrot in my ass. When the police came to pick me up they gave me a drug test, because I wasn't even blushing."

He grins. "Nobody would play Truth or Dare with me after that."

Tintin chokes out a laugh. "Sacristi. You're inhuman."

"Proud of it. So you can see why I'm not a good yardstick for how ashamed you should be of things you haven't even done."

Tintin sighs. "I- I suppose. It's... I don't know. Am I being ridiculous?"

"Maybe. It's a God-given right to be ridiculous sometimes."

"But I don't need to exercise it at the most inconvenient possible time." He chews his lip.

"...may I have a kiss for good luck," he asks timidly.

"You may," Ari says. He leans over and kisses Tintin. His lips are soft, but his stubble ghosts across Tintin's skin.

Tintin has no such stubble. He laughs against Ari's lips. "It tickles."

Ari rubs his cheek against Tintin's.

Squeak!

Tintin will just have to shove his fingers in Ari's side, then!

Ari giggles, lifting his arms over his head to give Tintin better access.

"Oh, ruin my fun."

"What, it's no fun if I like it?"

"It just seems - situationally inappropriate! This was meant as retaliation."

"I'm impossible to punish. You'll have to bite the bullet and decide whether to tickle me or not on its own merits."

Hmm.

Hmmmm.

Tickling it is, then.

Ari laughs until he's breathless.

Eventually, Tintin relents. "You are very good."

"You're wonderful," Ari giggles. "Let's get you therapized so I can do unspeakable things to you."

Blush. Tintin leads him back out into the therapist's office.

     "So, you've made your decision?" the therapist asks.

Tintin nods. "I want your help. The easy way."

     She smiles. "Excellent. My name is Doctor Seralis, by the way. Have you ever melded before?"

"No."

     "Are you familiar with the process?"

"Not particularly."

"Not at all," Ari adds.

     "Well, I'll touch Mr. Saint-Martin's face, and then my eyes will go black, and I'll say a trigger phrase, and then we'll both be unresponsive to outside input for a few minutes. If the meld lasts for an hour or more, which it almost certainly won't, you should get a Rod of Break Enchantment from the room console and tap us both."

"...that'll break a neural uplink?"

     "It'll break a lot of things."

Ari nods. "Understood."

     "Alright. Ready, Valentin?"

"Ready."

     Dr. Seralis glows blue, rises into the air a few inches, and grips Tintin's face in both hands. "Embrace Eternity!" she gasps as her eyes blacken. Tintin's eyes roll back in his head as the biotic field envelops him as well.

There they float.

Well, that's... disturbing.

Ari will request a magazine from the console and read until they emerge.

It takes about fifteen minutes. Then they float gently down to the floor, and Tintin blinks rapidly, returning to himself.

"Thank you," he says fervently to Dr. Seralis.

     She waves him off. "My pleasure. Really. I wouldn't do this if I didn't like helping people."

He nods, then turns to Ari. "Now, if you don't mind I'd like you to take me back to your room and fuck me until I can't walk."

Ari blinks.

"Just like that? No reservations at all? That's a big change."

"Not as much as you might think. I'm... usually very forthright, really. It was just this one thing that I couldn't handle. Riela helped me realize that it isn't that different from other things. That I can be - not casual, but reasonable about it. Instead of not allowing myself to think about it at all. And I already wanted to have sex with you, I just didn't want to say it out loud because that would make it too real."

"...Sounds like a very edifying fifteen minutes."

"Lord, it was only fifteen minutes?"

     "You knew you were experiencing dilated time," Dr. Seralis says.

"Didn't know by how much. It felt like hours. Kind of a vision quest."

"Well. You've made a request, and I'm happy to cooperate. Did you want to - go back into dom-sub mode, or just fuck as equals? I admit I kind of liked you trembling and flustered, but if that was just your anxiety..."

"No, no, I liked it too - let me see if I can tap back into it -"

He shrinks in on himself a bit, and his eyes soften. "Please?" he says quietly.

"Excellent," Ari says. He hooks his finger back into Tintin's belt loop. "Thank you, doctor; we'll be going now."

     "You boys have fun," she says serenely.

Ari pulls Tintin out of the office, breaking into a loping stride that Tintin can barely keep up with.

And Tintin follows, stumbling along, hard and dripping.

This time, they're not interrupted on their way to Ari's room. He thumbs the keypad and drags Tintin inside.

"Now, what do you want?" he asks.

"I - I want to suck your cock. And for you to fuck me, however you like. And then for us to cuddle a while."

He blushes. "And - you mentioned earlier you might spank me for acting out - that sounds nice too. Before anything else."

"I can do that. Any relevant limits?"

"No, sir."

"Sir. I like that. It's a pity I have to punish you."

Ari lifts him, and carries him over to the bed, and sits down with Tintin over his lap.

"Count for me?"

And his hand comes down.

"O-one."

"Stammering already? That's not sustainable."

He slaps his ass again, twice in quick succession.

"Two - three -"

He thrusts against Ari's leg, semi-voluntarily.

"Ah, you do like it. Time to do it properly."

Ari grabs Tintin's waistband. "Hips up."

Tintin complies.

And Ari pulls his pants and underwear down around his knees and presses him back down. The feeling of Tintin's prick and pussy against his thigh gives him pause. "Is that - huh. What a lovely surprise."

"I'm glad you like them, sir."

"Don't get cocky."

Smack, smack.

"Four. Five. Can you - harder -"

"I can harder."

The next hit connects squarely and loudly.

"Ff - six -"

Ari continues in the same vein.

After a few minutes, his ass burning red, Tintin thrusts particularly hard against Ari's thigh, and groans as his cock and his pussy both drip more energetically than usual. Then he slumps.

"...huh, can you not cum properly?"

"Mmph. S'not how it works. I could've gotten the whole package when I got the surgery, but - wanted to keep my pussy. So I didn't get balls. So I can't cum."

He nuzzles Ari's leg vaguely.

"...you know there's a potion for that, right? It's not nearly that binary when you get magic involved. Here, let me -"

He picks up the console with one hand and scritches Tintin behind the ears with the other. He types one-handed for a moment, then sets the console down and picks up the spontaneously appearing potion on the bedside table. "Herm potion. Try it?"

He tries it. Tastes like almond oil.

There's a moment where his crotch feels weird - like something's tugging and rearranging the nerves - but it fades. He's still soft.

"Probably not the best time to test it," he says. "Since I just sort-of-came anyway."

"You're very new to the Bowers," Ari says, picking up the other potion that he conjured. "Afterglow potion. By its grace the refractory period is not."

"-oh! Good."

Tintin quaffs this one as well. Faintly spicy, mostly sweet. There's a feeling like a rush of cool water through his body, and suddenly everything is sharp and his cock is perking back up. He misses the fuzzy cuddly feeling, a bit, but - well, he can get that back.

"I wonder how we could test its function," he says innocently.

"I can think of some ways. But, first..."

He repositions Tintin onto the bed beside himself. Then he unbuckles his chaps, unbuttons his jeans, and pulls them both off. He is not wearing underwear.

His cock is proportional to the rest of him, which is to say that it is obscenely huge.

"Putain de Dieu. You're the edge case my SRS surgeon warned me off from when she had me designing my prick."

Ari bursts out laughing. "What did she tell you? 'You'll never fit that into someone'?"

"Yes! Now I see why! How am I meant to put that in my mouth, let alone -" He shakes his head. "Not that it's not glorious."

"Would you like me to show you?"

Tintin's breath catches in his throat.

"Yes. Sir."

Ari taps on the console again, coming up with a small bottle of oil with a dropper cap. Gently, he dabs a bit on the corners of Tintin's mouth, the hinges of his jaw, and the hollow of his throat. He smears it around with his thumb. Then he sets it aside and leans back on his elbows, his erection standing proudly in the air.

"Now, suck my cock," he says matter-of-factly.

Tintin breathes in deeply. He leans over and tentatively licks the tip of Ari's prick.

It's amazing, just texturally. It's - solid, smooth, palpably straining under tension. He reaches out and takes the shaft in hand, pulls the foreskin back, inhales again. There's a smell of sweat and something else that makes his own dick jump. Absently, he reaches down to finger himself.

Ari grabs Tintin's arm. "Not yet."

Oh. That's... better, actually.

He lets Ari pull his arm back up, and reaches out with that hand to fondle Ari's balls as the other slowly strokes his shaft. He wraps his lips around the tip, and slides down, expecting to feel his lips starting to crack once it widens.

That... doesn't happen. He feels his lips stretch, and stretch, and he's got his mouth stretched around Ari's ridiculous cockhead.

He suckles on it for a bit, lost in sensation.

There's a rumble deep in Ari's throat, like he's a lion in the sun. "Good boy," he murmurs.

There's a part of Tintin that likes that very much.

He bobs up and down, flicking his tongue across the slit when he comes to the top, breathing through his nose. He's still only able to get a few inches down, even with whatever oil Ari applied letting him practically unhinge his jaw; he doesn't want to trigger his gag reflex.

Ari appreciates his ministrations, but after a few up-and-down bobs, he reaches out and grips Tintin's hair firmly.

"It seems like you need some help," he says.

Then he shoves Tintin's head down, until his nose is buried in Ari's thick blonde pubes.

Tintin thrashes, and feels his life flash before his eyes, before he realizes that... it doesn't hurt. It doesn't even feel uncomfortable. Ari's cock is well past the back of his throat and taking up real estate in his esophagus, and he feels fine. He's not gagging, he doesn't feel bruised or raw. He's just full. But he's fine.

Well, actually, he can't breathe. His trachea is pretty thoroughly blocked by Ari's monster cock, which might eventually be a problem.

Even as he has the thought, Ari's pressing something into his hand. It's round and smooth and cold. As soon as his fingers clasp around it, he can breathe again. How he's breathing is another question entirely, but that sure is air in his lungs. Cool and damp and sea-breezy.

"See? You just need to have a little faith."

Tintin would respond, but he really, really can't.

Instead, he tries experimentally to swallow, to contract his throat around Ari's length.

"Oh fuck - do that again -"

Well how can he refuse such a heartfelt request. He swallows again, and again, pumping his throat over Ari's cock. He's never done this before, but he's got remarkable bodily control.

Ari cums with a guttural shout.

Tintin has very little choice but to swallow as the ropes of cum paint the inside of his throat.

Fortunately, he'd want to anyway.

Ari pants as he withdraws gently from Tintin's mouth.

"Nicely done. For a first-timer, at least."

"I live for constructive feedback," Tintin says, futilely wiping at the drool on his chin.

"I don't actually have any, I was being a prick. You're amazing."

He leans down and catches Tintin's mouth in a kiss.

Squeak!

Tintin kisses back. Ari tastes lovely. Like vanilla and lavender.

Eventually Ari breaks off the kiss to take another afterglow potion from the nightstand and drain it. His cock perks back up immediately.

"Now. I believe you mentioned wanting me to fuck you. 'However I wanted'."

"Yes, I did." Tintin glances back down at Ari's monster cock, semi-involuntarily.

Ari grins. "Well, I think what I want right now is to take you from behind. Bend over."

Tintin gets up and bends over the bed, his cock and cunt leaving separate wet spots on the covers.

There's the sound of typing from behind him, and a muttered incantation, and then there's a cock rubbing up against Tintin's pussy.

And then there's another cock, rubbing up against his asshole.

Tintin cranes his neck, bewildered.

This action lets him see Ari, one hand stroking his cock, and the other hand stroking a second cock that sprouts from amidst his pubic hair.

He lets go of the upper cock to reach for a bottle of lube, which he starts fingering into Tintin's ass. "I thought it seemed like a waste to only fuck one of your holes," he explains. "And this is the Rose Bowers."

Tintin would respond to this, but he's too busy moaning at the feeling of Ari's fingers exploring his hole.

"Oh, you like that?" Ari's fingers curl downwards, seeking out Tintin's prostate.

"Yes, s-sir - oh - fuck, please fuck me, please," he babbles.

Ari can hardly refuse such a polite request.

He lines himself back up with Tintin's holes. "If it starts to hurt, stop me, alright?"

"Yes, sir - please -"

"Have some patience."

Slowly, he pushes in. Tintin's pussy is more accommodating, Ari's cockhead slipping between his folds with no real resistance. But Ari carefully guides his cock into Tintin's asshole as well, and the blunt head stretches him open.

Tintin is barely able to think. It feels like Ari can't possibly fit, twice over, and yet, impossibly, he does. It doesn't even hurt - well, his cunt is aching, but he can't tell if it's the stretching or just his need.

The noises he is making are desperate, numerous, and uncontrollable.

"Good boy," Ari murmurs. "You're taking me so well - so tight - such a good boy -"

He eventually bottoms out, his hips pressing against Tintin's cheeks and staying there for a good few seconds. "How's that?" he asks.

"God - fuck - please - harder -"

Ari can go harder. He withdraws a few inches, pushes back in, finds a rhythm. It's a little bit tricky to work with two cocks, but he knows what he's doing.

Tintin loves it. He ruts desperately against the sheets, whines and pants and, finally, shudders around Ari's cocks -

and shoots one, two, three ropes of cum over the bed. "Oh," he moans.

"Congratulations," Ari manages. Then, driven over the edge by the spasms, he pumps a massive load into Tintin's holes.

He collapses onto the bed beside Tintin, still buried in his pussy and his ass, and draws him into a hug.

Tintin feels Ari's seed deep inside him. It makes him feel warm, and happy, and - wanted.

He snuggles up and enjoys the afterglow.

Ari eventually mumbles "d'you want to clean up? Gonna get - sticky."

"I suppose."

"Alright. Hup!"

Ari removes himself from Tintin's holes, then picks him up without significant effort and carries him to the bathroom.

Oh! Okay, this is happening! Okay!

Tintin nuzzles his face into Ari's chest.

"You like it when I carry you, huh?"

Ari turns the shower on and steps in. The water's not icy, but it's a lot cooler than most would prefer. Ari sighs happily.

Tintin shivers a bit.

"- oh, right, normal people."

Ari turns the temperature up until it's not-quite-warm rather than not-quite-freezing. "Better?"

Tintin nods.

Ari sets Tintin down gently in the tub. "Want me to soap you up?"

Happy noise (affirmative)!

Ari will do that, then. Rubbing soapy hands all over Tintin's body, slipping along his sharp lines and subtle curves.

Slipping below the waist and stroking along his still-sensitive lips.

Sharp inhalation! Leaning into Ari's chest and moaning quietly!

"Gotta get you clean," Ari murmurs.

He pours some more soap into his hand and starts gently fingering Tintin, working the cum out of him.

Mooooooan. So much.

The cum pools in the water, somehow not dissolving into glue like it normally would. Tintin is too melty to notice or care.

Ari finishes with Tintin's pussy and moves on to his ass. Then, once both holes are clean and gently tingling from the soap potion, he moves on to washing his hair. He doesn't bother telling Tintin to close his eyes; the shampoo is apparently purely magical in such a way that it doesn't sting. Gently, he works the potion into his lover's scalp and combs it through his short locks. 

Tintin is so unbelievably cozy. He wants to melt under Ari's giant hands. He makes a variety of incoherent noises to express this.

"You like this," Ari says, not a question at all. "Good."

He takes a nozzle from the rim of the tub and rinses Tintin's hair out. Then he pulls the drain plug, and as the water runs down the drain he picks him up and steps out onto the tile floor.

"Dry," he says. There's a cloud of vapor as the water comes off their skin before it has time to chill in the air.

Then he carries Tintin out into the bedroom, tucks him into bed, and climbs in beside him. The lights dim to nothing, and the first day of Tintin's stay in the Rose Bowers ends.